Angelfall
by UnknownUnseenUnheard
Summary: When Zidane decides to leave, Blank decides he can't go alone. When Kuja learns of Mikoto, he decides he doesn't like the way things are shaping and he begins to plot. When Garland realizes he has truly lost his Angel of Death, he decides not to leave things to chance. The thing about decisions, though, is that they make or break the world, and Garland intends to break it all
1. Going With

A/N: Out of all the Final Fantasy games, IX is definitely my favorite. Followed by VI and VII. In that order. So, i decided to write a story for it. Enjoy :)

Published: 10/09/2017

Warnings: Spoilers. I won't bother warning again unless they happen to be for a game other than this one.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **Going With**

The small child hid.

Covered only in dirty rags, his little body was concealed entirely by the boxes around him in the alleyway.

With an air of utter smugness at the day's success, Zidane Tribal made his way towards his makeshift home. Hidden behind the strategically placed boxes and on the other side of a wall, Zidane's little home was admittedly small. It was enough.

Zidane let himself slip through the tiny break in the otherwise uniform stone wall. Most would not fit. A five year old, however, had no such trouble.

Throwing down his spoils of the day, Zidane smirked to himself and tossed himself down on the pile of old sheets he called a bed.

That was when everything changed. His entire life, all he had built, shattered in one single moment.

Looking back to it, Zidane would be glad. He'd look back at this day fondly. At the time, however, instead the child nearly pissed himself in fright.

Zidane nearly jumped a mile in the air as the wall came crashing down. Eyes wide, the little boy looked up, only to meet the gaze of a man.

Grey skin. Bat like ears. Purple furry mustache. Large belly.

Shit.

"So," Baku began, "you're the little runt that's been stealing from my ship."

* * *

At the age of thirteen, Zidane wondered if he was being selfish. Was this right? Was this okay? Was it really fine for him to leave everyone else behind?

Part of him didn't want to go.

Part of him longed to stay here, with Tantalus, with Baku and with Marcus and Cinna and Blank and Ruby, but-

But-

 _Blue_.

Shimmering shining blue that would not leave his memories, that would not leave his dreams.

It called to him.

Zidane could feel it. He knew what it was, in his heart.

Home was calling to him.

So, he'd say his goodbyes. Leaving without doing so would have been just wrong. They'd have worried, they'd have searched, and they'd of assumed something had happened to him.

Considering their line of work, well… It could be anything from a rival gang capturing him to getting arrested to something more sinister. As much as Zidane craved to find his home, he couldn't do that to the other members of Tantalus, even if it meant putting up with-

"You can't go, Zidane!"

"We're all orphans. I don't see the problem."

"You were probably born near a river, you know. That's why you remember blue!"

"Stay! Don't break up the group!"

The worst, however, wasn't any of them. No. Even as the other members of Tantalus muttered their silent demands that Zidane stay, Baku stayed silent. That… That was a terrifying thing indeed. Zidane couldn't read his adoptive father , no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, Baku stood and the others fell silent.

Baku took several steps forward. Each echoed across the airship as the leader strode forward. Zidane stood tall and proud, meeting his gaze head on.

All too soon, Baku was before him. Baku blinked down at Zidane. Still smaller than him. Always smaller.

"You wish to leave?"

Zidane faltered.

"No, it's not like that, I-"

Baku didn't let him finish. Out of nowhere, a swinging fist had Zidane flying backwards. There were shouts as his back slammed hard against the wall. Zidane coughed audibly as a little blood escaped his lips.

"Get out of my sight." Baku then turned and left. Zidane couldn't help but smile sadly as he rose to his feet. He didn't think the others had noticed, but he had. That glint in Baku's eyes. The old man had been fighting back tears.

Looking up at the others, Zidane grinned at them, big and wide, even as he fought back his own tears.

"Bye."

* * *

"So, there's nothing that will get you to stay?"

Zidane had been busy packing. Despite that, he didn't need to turn to know who was at the door. He'd known before the person had even spoke.

One of the reasons Baku had decided to take in a stray like him was because he'd always had such sharp instincts. Well, that, and Zidane had managed to sneak onto the Prima Vista and run off with some of Baku's loot.

At the age of five.

That was impressive by any standard.

"Yep."

Zidane sat down, grabbed one of his boots, and began to put it on. He hadn't even changed this morning. He'd just woken and the first thought that had coursed through his mind was _find home._ Nothing else had mattered.

The bed dipped as Blank sat next to him.

"So there's nothing we can do to change your mind?"

Zidane sighed.

"I'm sorry, Blank. I don't expect you to understand, but this is… It's something I gotta do, okay? I don't know why, I just have to."

Blank was silent next to him. The silence passed for several seconds as Zidane finished tying up his boots. Zidane would have preferred more pleas for him to stay. The silence was deafening, really.

"Okay," Blank nodded as he stood, "Explain why you have to, then. Make me understand."

Zidane's gaze snapped up in a glare. "I already told you, I don't know! I just…" Zidane's glare wavered. Suddenly, his eyes were glassy and all too far away. "I can feel it. I can feel home calling me… So, I have to go. Please, don't make it harder."

Blank struggled to remain composed. This… This wasn't like Zidane at all. Where was the cheerful cocky brat he'd grown up with? Apparently, not here. It was in that moment that Blank realized he had a choice to make.

Zidane clearly wasn't thinking straight. For all he knew, Zidane was enchanted. Nothing would stop him. If he tried physical force, there was no guarantee Zidane wouldn't slip away.

Blank knew that if that happened, there'd be no what ifs. Zidane would leave and he sure as hell wouldn't come back.

So, giving that, there was hit one solution to his dilemma.

"When do we leave?"

Zidane blinked several times. It took several seconds for the words to register properly.

"We?" he nearly stuttered out.

Blank rolled his eyes.

"No, you and the Lindblum fairy. Yes, me and you! Do you honestly think I'm going to let you go on your own?"

Zidane glared.

"I can take care of myself!" he snapped.

"That's not the point. We're all family here, right? Baku took us all in. It isn't right for any of us to just let you go off on your own, so I'm coming with, brat."

With that, Blank smirked and flicked Zidane's forehead before sauntering off, whistling a tune and ignoring the glare burning into his back.

Once he was sure Blank was gone, Zidane fell back into his bed and felt tears he hadn't known he'd been holding in spill forth. Blank would be going with him. He wouldn't be alone. That… That was a relief, not that he'd ever admit it.

* * *

"So, how'd the talk go, bro?" Marcus asked as Blank made his way back into their room. The Prima Vista, contrary to popular belief, didn't have many rooms. Most of them shared, except Ruby since she usually didn't even stay in the ship and instead back at the base and Zidane who wasn't trusted anywhere near his fellow Troupe members bunks.

Last time… Well, no one speaks of last time. Let's just say it involved a shit load of noodles, a Malboro, and a Moogle.

"I'm going with." Blank tossed out casually as he grabbed a bag and began to stuff clothes into it.

Marcus froze.

"I'm sorry, Blank. I could have sworn you just said you're going with."

"I am."

Marcus shot up faster than a cat out of water.

"What the hell, bro! You were suppose to convince him not to go, not the other way around!"

Blank's gaze met his.

"He's dead set on going. If we try and stop him, he'll just go in the middle of the night. This way, I can keep a watch on him. 'Sides, we'll be back in no time, mark my words."

Blank smirked, completely and utterly self confident that this little sojourn of Zidane's couldn't possibly last that long. They'd be back within the month. He was completely and utterly sure of it.

* * *

 _One Year Later…_

"Damn it., Zidane! Who did you piss off this time!"

Blank hadn't had time to think. Nope. He'd just finished packing up camp when both Zidane and Freya had come flying out at top speed.

A month his ass.

Damn runt wanted to explore literally everywhere. Blank's eye twitched for a moment.

"No time! Run, run, run!" Zidane interrupted Blank's inner monologue.

"I am deeply regretting to agreeing to travel with the pair of you." a third voice snapped out.

"Ah, come on, Freya. It isn't that bad, right?"

"Tell that to the army of Chocobos trying to kill us!" Blank barked as he finally managed to throw a glance behind them… Only to spot rather furious golden birds gaining on them. Chocobo stampedes were rare. And fatal. Very fatal. "How- no, I don't want to know. How you managed to get normally peaceful creatures to go on a murderous rampage is beyond me." Blank shook his head. Eidolons, why had he agreed to this again?

"It's a gift?" Zidane suggested cheekily.

"Shut up and run faster!" Freya snapped out.

"Aye aye, captain!" both of them saluted in unison.

Freya resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. If she did that, she wouldn't be able to see. If she couldn't see, they'd get run over by the Chocobos Zidane had somehow managed to rally.

"Up there!"

Then, like a monkey- which was an apt name considering his monkey like tail- Zidane scaled up a tree. With a shrug, Freya leaped.

"Oiy! Some of us can't jump that high or climb that fast!"

A rope struck Blank's head. He stared at it for a heartbeat before gripping it in both hands.

"Up you go!"

"Wait, I can climb myse- Zidane!"

Zidane pulled and with strength that defied his small stature, Blank found himself flung into the air just as the Chocobos shot past in an angry stampeded.

Blank managed to land on one of the tree's thick branches. Looking around, he spotted Freya to the right and Zidane to the left.

Then, Zidane fell onto his back and started to laugh.

"Wasn't that fun?!"

Blank and Freya both twitched before their eyes met. They nodded at one another, one thought in mind: Zidane was so dead.

* * *

Garland frowned and once more cursed that wretched Kuja. The perfect Genome, lost! Whatever Kuja had done to Zidane all those years ago kept his perfect destroyer far from Garland's almost omniscient vision.

The only reason he hadn't given up was because he had managed to connect, if only briefly, to his creation's mind a year ago.

When he had, he sent a single powerful all encompassing command.

 _Come home_.

So far, it was a command that had been ignored.

Garland snarled. He was running out of time. At this rate, he would need, he would need-

Another.

Another Angel of Death.

Contemplating, the ancient Android spun and made his way to his laboratory. He had work to accomplish. This time, he had to keep Kuja from interfering. Well. What the other Genome didn't know wouldn't hurt him, would it?


	2. Leads and Shenanigans

A/N: Hey all. How are you?

I need a new title for this. I seem to have, accidentally and subconsciously, stolen the one I currently have from a Supernatural/HP story I was reading. Heh heh. Oops?

Any suggestions?

Anyways, here's the next chapter :)

Published: 11/20/2017

Warnings: None

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **Leads and Shenanigans**

Blank, for perhaps the hundredth time, rubbed his hands into his head.

"Why. Why, oh why, did I agree to come along with you?"

"Woohoo! Bath time!"

Blank twitched. Unfortunately, he should have moved instead of simply standing there and glaring at his rather boisterous companion, and as such was subsequently drenched in water.

Blank twitched again.

Why was he even surprised? They had found the stream only half an hour ago. Blank had helped Zidane set up camp while their huntress declared she would find them a fine meal.

If she brought back another damned dragon, Blank would flip his shit. The flesh was rubbery and thick and, while the taste wasn't half bad, Freya was far too fond of it. Or perhaps, she was too fond of killing them. She seemed to take a particular pride in being a dragon slayer.

Regardless, while Freya had gone off in a search for food, Blank had left halfway through their camp building to get water since they were running low.

Unfortunately, it seemed he either hadn't given himself enough time or Zidane had, once again, ditched the camp in a half made fashion in favor of the urge to go play in the water.

…

Blank had no doubt he came was still half done.

Although, part of that assumption came from being drenched as a cause of Zidane's enthusiastic cannonball.

Blank could only twitch after making his way back to camp and finding everything, somehow, impossibly, in complete order. If only Zidane had the same work ethic when cleaning his room back at the Prima Vista.

However, what really hit the nail on the head was Freya, sitting at the heart of the camp, happily roasting away at yet another bloody dragon.

Why had he agreed to come along again?

* * *

Garland, evidentially, took Kuja for a fool. Kuja's eyes darkened with complete and utter rage and hatred. Or, at the very least, the closest Kuja's broken excuse for a heart could manage to emulate those emotions.

It…

Just…

Wasn't…

Fair!

Had he not done everything Garland asked of him? Had he not done every task, followed every order, committed every sin, done each and every little thing that popped into his Master's twisted head?

Yet, it wasn't good enough.

It was never good enough.

 _Kuja_ was never good enough.

He could drown himself in an ocean of blood, time and time again, but such actions didn't seem to get him the result he so desired. They were superfluous, it seemed, despite being the actions he had literally been created for.

Kuja sneered.

Honestly, this whole Angel of Death business was oh so troublesome. He'd rather not deal with it at all. However, failure was not an option. Kuja liked having his soul, thank you very much, and if he had to kill over and over again to keep it then so be it.

Zidane, that weakling, hadn't had the strength or the resolve for such actions. Really, Kuja had done his precious little brother a favor by casting him down, yet he was painted as the villain in the farce?! Bah!

Regardless, it seemed history was about to repeat.

Oh joy.

How Kuja just loved repetition. It was his favorite part of the theater.

… Not!

Kuja eyes his so called sister with distaste. The latest of Garland's so called Angels of Death, floating about in a tank, eyes closed and her face so calm, so peaceful. Blond strands floated about in the air. Electrodes connected to her flesh, and every several seconds or so the machines around her began to beep to report they had new important information on the subject that you just had to see!

Blah.

She was younger, but not a mere babe like Zidane had been. Kuja assumed she would eventually grow. It seemed like Garland had decided that his best bet was to make a mix of his two former projects. An attempted fusion of Zidane and he with this girl.

She would have a semblance of a childhood, like Zidane, so she would not suffer the emotional stuntage that Kuja himself was afflicted with. Alternatively, however, like Zidane this would make her vulnerable to growing those pesky annoying little things called 'morals', which just doesn't do when your task is to kill a word.

That was likely were the accelerated age came from.

Unlike Kuja, she wouldn't be born fully grown, but enough to have a psyche undeveloped enough to be malleable to Garland's twisted wishes.

"Father, you truly are the Beast of the story. Worry not, sister," Kuja let one of his hands trail along the cool surface of the glass, "I may play the part of Garland's Destroyer, but I've no intent of following through." Kuja promised. "I will _break_ him, and this world? I will rule it, and create an Eternal Empire. You make my words, sister, and I will make it so."

* * *

Blank couldn't help it facepalm hey again. Seriously. By the time this journey was done, he was going to have permanent marks embedded into his skin.

"... Why is he the leader again?"

At the very least, Blank had Freya. He didn't think his sanity would survive even for a second without the Burmecian at his side. No, it wouldn't last at all. Zidane would have shattered it into pieces, all while dancing around and laughing like a maniacal madman.

Blank briefly pictured a dancing clown, running about and tossing magic in every direction in a multicolored array of destruction before shrugging off the image. Zidane, fortunately, was not that chaotic, although his monkey tailed friend came pretty damn close.

"Come once it wasn't that bad." Zidane argued, a pout adorning the teens features. He was pouting at them. Actually goddamn pouting.

"You've framed someone else for a crime you've committed." Freya, despite having the face of a rat, could deadpan pretty damn well. "What's worse, you've framed a dangerous assassin for the crime, if the rumors we're hearing of this Amarant prove to be true."

Zidane rolled his eyes.

Blank wasn't sure whether his brother was brave and courageous, just plain batshit crazy, or both. For a second, Blank saw an image of Zidane wearing dark robes, trimmed in gold and red before shaking it off.

"All's he had to do was speak up for himself," Zidane shamelessly defended himself, despite his obvious guilt. "And, what does he do instead?" Zidane shook his head in disappointment, "he beats the rest of the guards to a bloody pulp instead of explaining himself! If anything, I did him a service by releasing his true disposition!"

With that little declaration Zidane turned to stare at the eternal darkness that as the sky of Treno, hand on his hips, nodding dramatically to himself as he struck a heroic pose.

Freya attempted to stab him.

Blank honestly could say he was surprised it took so bloody long for the attempted homicide to start again.

"...from a far off land. Beyond the Mist!"

Blank froze. Slowly, he spun about and noticed an old man trying to barter away with one of the many street merchants of Treno.

"What is this rubbish? Beyond the Mist? You're insane!" The merchant, an old crone of a woman covered in shawls and bumps running across her skin, snared at the old man before knocking something from his hands.

The old man hissed.

"This true! There are continents past the Mist, distant unexplored lands of wonder and myth!" the man protested.

"Fool! Past the Mist there is only Death!"

"Past the Mist are other lands, with their own marvels and inventions and arts!" the old man argued, snapping his finger at the crone as if she was being unreasonably stubborn. Then, he lifted his treasure from where it had been flung, a useless looking nicknack that even a klepto like Zidane wouldn't bother taking, and Zidane was worse that a dragon that was being presented something shiny.

"Look at their art! Dwarves made! Awe striking, eh!" the man arched an eyebrow, presenting the nicknack as if it were some sort of gift that had been bestowed upon him by angels that had descended from the heavens while singing choir music, and the merchant just had to see it's brilliant allure.

The merchant did not see the allure. Blank couldn't blame her. He didn't see it either.

"Begone with that trash! I'm tryin' to make a livin' here, you old fool!" she was very fond of the word fool, "Now, go before I call the guards!" she snarled, spittle flying from her mouth as she waved her arms about in annoyance.

The old man, realizing at last that it was a lost cause, backed away slowly.

This was stupid. It couldn't possibly get them anywhere. Just a waste of their time.

It was also the only fucking lead they'd found in over a year.

Preparing himself, Blank strode forth.

"Excuse me, kind sir."

As the old man turned, eyes glistening with undeniable greed, Blank fought back a groan. Seriously. The things he did for Zidane.


End file.
